The Queen's Redress
by Fourier's Lawyer
Summary: Padmé Amidala, having survived the events of "Revenge of the Sith," decides to take matters into her own hands. The Empire, she realizes, is not going to demolish itself.


_This one takes place shortly after the end of "Revenge of the Sith," assuming that Padm_ _é survived. I don't own Star Wars._

 **The Queen's Redress**

By Fourier's Lawyer

The room, for that of an Alderaanian palace, was relatively unadorned. A long meeting table and a low-hanging light occupied much of its area. Surrounding the table was a series of evenly spaced chairs, upon which two senators and two Jedi masters were individually seated.

To the best of her ability, Padmé Amidala assumed an expression of passivity, regarding her companions with no emotion in her eyes. She did not trust herself to speak, for her feelings still betrayed her.

The small green alien – the Grand Master with wisdom etched into his face, was the first to speak. "For Dagobah, I must depart," he said, forming the sentence into an inverted structure. "Depart soon, we _all_ must." He turned to regard Bail Organa, singling him out as the only exception to the statement.

"What of my children and I?" Padmé inquired, tailoring her speech such that her voice was monotonous. The resulting cadence was reminiscent of her former self: the Nubian Queen Amidala. She had not been prepared for Master Yoda's reply: "Separated, the twins must be."

"And, why is that?" Padmé responded, eyes narrowing, her tone darkening to a dangerous degree. Her unperturbed visor had broken slightly, masking her fear just only enough so that it resembled suspicion. "Strong, their presence is. Feel their combined energy, Darth Vader will. Only if separated they are, safe, they will be from the Emperor." Padmé resisted the urge to shake her head adamantly.

It was Obi-Wan who spoke next, hoping to diffuse Padmé's turmoil: "Senator, Master Yoda's words are true. Anakin has likely already sensed your presence; he knows you are alive. If the twins remain together and in your custody, he will know. He will sense their presence, and surely stop at nothing to have them." Padmé lowered her eyes in defeat. "I know," she whispered, her voice fluctuating in tone. The pain, she hoped, was not visible in her expression. A pregnant pause hung in the air. "To whom will they go?"

"Padmé," Organa began, "If you will permit, I will raise Leia. My wife and I have wished to adopt a baby girl for some time, now." Padmé immediately warmed to this. _What better home could there be for my child?_ "She will be in good, loving hands," she said, softening her voice and manner. Organa bowed his head in a gesture of acknowledgement and gratitude.

"Luke," Obi-Wan considered, "may live with his aunt and uncle on Tatooine?" He looked to Padmé for approval. She nodded slowly. "I will leave for Tatooine as well," Obi-Wan decided. "I will look after Luke - protect him. He and his sister may be the galaxy's last hope."

"Go into hiding, you must, Senator." Yoda imparted. Something akin to anger arose within Padmé. The Sith and the Jedi alike had taken her family. Never, would she allow them to take her duty from her when it was needed by her people. "No," Padmé insisted, surprised at the forcefulness of the word. "No. I will not hide. I must return to Coruscant. During these dark times, I owe my service to my people." "Senator," Obi-Wan began, in an attempt to dissuade her, "Emperor Palpatine will surely have you arrested. You may be killed for treason."

Padmé darkened. "I will not be _pacified_ ," she shot, but immediately, guilt washed over her expression.

 _They merely do not understand. Make them understand._

She softened and gave a wry smile. "If I go to Anakin, first, then Palpatine will need to _plot_ my death – hire an assassin, perhaps. This will buy me time, and during that time, I will reside in the senate." She rose from her seat. "My fellow senators must be informed of the Emperor's tyranny. How else shall we have a rebellion? How else, without the support of our governing body, can a political solution be engineered?"

"Senator-"

"My family has been torn apart before my eyes, Master Kenobi. What other purpose can I create for myself? Surely you understand this?" Padmé's voice had grown to a powerful instrument of pervasion. She stood with all the majesty and resplendence worthy of a benevolent empress. Warmth and pride twinkled in Yoda's eyes. "Truly a courageous path, you have chosen, Senator Amidala. Padmé acknowledged his compliment with a quick expression of gratitude.

"There are others," Organa stated, "including myself, who are willing to follow your cause, Padmé. We shall organize as soon as is possible." Padmé nodded. "Thank you, Senator Organa.

"If you'll excuse me," she requested, "I would like to bid my children farewell." Raising a hand, Bail Organa directed her to the adjacent room.

...

Padmé trod gently toward the pair of bassinets. The twins slept peacefully, and she was uneager to wake them upon her entrance. In the first cradle lay an infant with soft, rosy cheeks and an already full head of chocolate brown hair. "Leia…" she whispered, stroking the tiny, sleeping face of her daughter. In so many ways, the child already resembled her mother. "Leia, my dear… know why I had to leave you. Know that I could not hide from myself or my duty. Know that even from my grave, I will love you."

Unbeknownst to Padmé, Leia had opened her eyes…

Padmé made her way to Luke, also asleep, breathing softly. Sandy blonde hair framed his tiny face. Already, she saw Anakin in him, and the realization brought her pain. "Luke," Padmé whispered, knowing that he could neither hear nor understand, "the light surrounds you. Please… never lose it as your father did."

She stole a last look at the beautiful faces of her children before turning away with decisive finality.

...

Obi-Wan met her in the hallway. "Senator Amidala," he said, sincerely, "I wish to bid you a more proper farewell. It would feel wrong for us to part on such… conflicted terms." Padmé strode towards him. "Yes." She sighed and shook her head slowly, doing her best to adopt her impartial expression once again. She then looked up to face Obi-Wan. "What, exactly did you _do_ to Anakin?"

"I was not referring to… " Obi-Wan seemed at an utter loss. "Well, I suppose that we must… " He breathed deeply, composing himself. "Obi-Wan, if I've struck a tender cord," Padmé augmented, "I apologize, but I… I simply _must_ know. If he is still alive, then… " "You, of all people, deserve to know," Obi-Wan began, "What I did on that day was horribly wrong, Padmé."

His expression became distant -detached. "I made him suffer. I left him for dead. After what I did to him… " Obi-Wan paused again, his face contorted with anguish. He found it within him to laugh. It was pained; Obi-Wan sounded more as if he were choking than laughing. "I disfigured him – mutilated him! I should have _killed_ him! I should have killed him rather than to force his suffering! What I did was… vengeful," His breath shook. "I am so _deeply immeasurably_ sorry."

For the second time that day, Padmé's mask of impartiality was rendered useless. She could not tear the accusation from her mind. She could sense her own anger struggling for control of her. What disturbed her to the greatest measure, however, was the reason for her anger. Somehow, after everything, she _still_ found love in her heart for Anakin. Over all else, Padmé hated to see Anakin in pain. She breathed evenly, forcing herself to clear her mind.

"Obi-Wan," she started, pouring as much sincerity into her voice as she could muster, "My dear friend, it is I who should apologize. My marriage to Anakin was far more than he could handle. I should have seen this. I should have taken notice of the signs. I saw things in him that… may have served as warnings. I was just as blind to my emotions as Anakin was."

Obi-Wan's expression bordered on gratefulness. "Then, I suppose we shall both redeem ourselves," he considered.

...

Padmé's eyes traced the starship from the palace's hangar into Alderaan's stratosphere. In that craft was her son, whom, she realized, she may never see again for what short time she had left to live. She turned to Bail beside her. "I must go," she told him, "I leave for Coruscant." He smiled. "I would come with you, Padmé, but my duties to Alderaan require that I stay for the time being."

She returned the smile in his direction. "I understand, Bail. I will ready my ship."


End file.
